


No.10 (Alt5) Hostage Situation

by LiGi



Series: Febuwhump 2021 [10]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: FebuWhump2021, Gen, Hostage Situations, Hurt Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Magical restraints, No 10, Torture, a little bit, alt 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:40:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29330964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiGi/pseuds/LiGi
Summary: Febuwhump 2021 day 10 - Alt5 - Hostage situationArthur is held hostage by a sorceress who wants to bargain with Uther for the freedom of her husband.
Series: Febuwhump 2021 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137632
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	No.10 (Alt5) Hostage Situation

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by Onehelluvapilot, whose febuwhumps are also brilliant, go and read them too!  
> I spent three days trying to write something for day 10's prompt but my muse absolutely refused to co-operate so in the end I used an alternate prompt.

Arthur blearily opened his eyes. There was a pounding in his head, pain reverberating with every beat of his heart. He groaned.

As he tried to move, he found he was restrained against a wall, his arms and legs spread-eagled and held firmly in place. He rolled his head to the side, ignoring the pain that lanced up his neck at the movement and looked at his wrist. There was no visible restraint. He pulled his hand but it wouldn’t budge. A force he couldn’t see was holding him still.

Magic.

He whipped his head up, eyes searching the darkness of the room he was in. Movement from the shadows drew his attention and a tall woman came forward, in one hand a long intricately patterned staff, a crystal glowing at one end of it.

“Hello, your Highness,” she said coldly.

Arthur recognised her immediately. She was the wife of the man who had been arrested two days ago for selling enchantments in his shop. She had fled when Arthur and his knights had stormed the shop and dragged the man to the dungeons.

She waved the staff and muttered a spell and Arthur felt pain flare up his spine. He tried to arch his back as he let out a cry but the magical restraints kept him still.

“What do you want from me?” he gasped. Although he already had a pretty good idea. Evil sorcerers only ever wanted one thing from the Pendragons.

“You are my hostage!” she spat. “If your father ever wants to see you alive again, he will release my husband.”

“My father does not negotiate with sorcerers,” Arthur said, meeting her icy gaze.

“You’d better hope he does, your Highness,” she whispered cruelly as she leaned in close to his face, gold seeping into her eyes. “Or you will feel a world of pain before you die.”

Sudden screaming pain erupted in Arthur’s head. He thrashed, desperately trying to get his hands free but the magic around his wrists and ankles tightened, his fingers beginning to feel numb. Just before he blacked out from the pain it stopped and he sagged, trying not to whimper, against the wall.

With a flourish of her staff she summoned a piece of parchment, a quill, and a wax sealing stick, setting them on a desk in the centre of the room. She bent over, writing quickly, then held the page up to him with a wicked smile.

He saw a list of demands; the release of her husband, the agreement that they wouldn’t be hunted. The threat of his own death.

“I need you to sign this, as proof to your father that I have you hostage,” she said.

“How can I when I can’t move my hands?” he spat, tugging once more at the bonds.

His arms and legs were wrenched away from the wall, dangling him like a puppet with magical strings. She forced him to walk to the desk and pressure pushed his back down.

He gritted his teeth as sharp splintering pain pricked his hand as the magic loosened around his wrist. The quill was shoved into his numb fingers but he dropped it immediately.

“Sign it,” she growled.

“I told you,” he ground out. “We don’t make bargains with sorcerers.”

He threw the quill to the floor, using as much strength as he could muster to twist in the restraints and throw a punch at the sorcereress’s face. Agony ripped down his back as he broke from the loosened magical hold and tackled the woman to the floor.

He tried to land another punch but before he could he was hurled backwards, his head smacking into the wall as he crumpled to the floor.

“You will regret that,” the woman hissed. She shakily got to her feet, leaning on her staff, one hand cradling her cheek, which was red from Arthur’s punch.

Her other hand lifted the staff to point at him as she shouted words Arthur didn’t understand. Her eyes blazed and blinding pain seared through his head like a red hot poker. He bit his lip, tasting blood in his mouth, but determined not to give her the satisfaction of making him cry out.

She snarled and said the spell again, the knuckles of her fist whitening as she squeezed the staff.

Arthur held on for as long as he could before the pain became unbearable and he sobbed out a moan. She grinned and the pain increased further until he was writhing and screaming, fire burning through his head. Tears poured from his eyes as readily as the screams tore from his throat. It was endless. He thought his head might explode, silently begging his mind to just give up and let him die. Anything to stop the pain.

Eventually she lifted the staff away from him and Arthur fell into a ragged heap, gasping for air.

She thrust the parchment and quill in front of him on the floor.

“Shall we try again?” A tight band of magical force appeared around his throat, tightening until he could barely breathe. “ _Sign it_.”

Whimpering, his pride already shattered to pieces, desperate for anything to make her leave him alone, Arthur picked up the quill with shaking fingers. The magic at his throat squeezed, black dots dancing in front of his eyes.

For the few seconds it took him to sign his name she let the magic go.

She waved a hand under the wax stick, flames leaping from her palm and melting it to drip beside his name. His hand was forced over, slammed down onto the wax so his ring pressed the Pendragon seal into it. As soon as this was done she flung him away.

“There. Not too difficult was it, your Highness?”

Arthur couldn’t reply, just let himself flop to the floor. With a laugh and another nonsensical spell, Arthur was picked up and strapped against the wall again, his head drooping down onto his chest.

She slashed her staff down through the air and a deep cut appeared on Arthur’s chest, a spray of blood splattering against the parchment as she held it up. Arthur could do nothing but stare at the red droplets, slowly absorbing into the parchment across his name.

That would definitely send a very clear message. He just hoped his father would agree to the terms.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm thinking of doing a follow on chapter from this one as one of the prompts later in the month, so keep your eyes peeled for the sequel!
> 
> I love any and all comments!


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